doubts

Hushed words in gaelic were exchanged within the crumbling walls of Freeman's Fortress. Roisin understood very little of what was spoken and it was interfering with duties as one of Jacob's soldiers. It was embarrassing enough when one of her comrades spoke to her in slow drawn out words as if she were a dumb child. She was trying to study the language again in her spare time, but it was hard without any guidance and she was too ashamed to ask her peers. They already thought she was a mainlander spy so it wasn't likely that they would assist her even if she asked. If Kiel were here… she sighed and pushed aside the sudden longing for the companionship of her big brother.

Out there at Freeman's Fortress she felt more alone and isolated than she had in Perth. At least there her mother always had a kind word for her even if her attention was stolen away by her younger siblings. She could always go back… The desire was there to run away from her problems and return to Perth.

He'd never forgive you. Those cold blood red eyes stalked her thoughts and she felt a ripple of shame for even considering it. He was the reason she was here. She wanted to prove to him that she was worthy.

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Luthais snarled from the side of the makeshift fighting ring. "Chan fhaigh thu cogaidhean gu bràth leis an fhrèam sin." The warriors sparring had mixtures of aggravation and shame on their faces, which were caked with fresh earth. His blood-red eyes shifted to the weaker of the two brutes, whose stance was deplorable. Sensing a moment prime for teaching, he strode into the ring, his limp a touch worse today because of the morning rain. With gruff movements, he nosed and shoved the wolf into a proper position, sending large huffs of air through his nose as he did so. When the warrior was properly standing, Luthais trudged back to his point on the outside of their fighting circle, turning his eyes coldly to them again. With a nod that made it clear it should have been obvious, he signaled them to begin once more.

It was then that he caught sight of Roisin. Her presence in this camp set Luthais on edge, though he certainly would never show it. She was like a viper in the grass; when he forgot about her, she lurched up towards him to strike, with her familiar face, her familiar eyes, but her unfamiliar tongue, her unfamiliar views. Yes, she looked the same, but inside there was poison. He had made clear how he had felt about that since her very first moment back here.

His eyes shifted away again, as if she were not there. But her path was directly blocking the route to his den, which was where he was headed now. He gave it a moment of thought, and then began a brisk, stalking pace towards her, closer and closer, and then -- moving directly by her, without even a whisper of a word or the brush of a touch.

"Speech"


@Roisin

There was a fierce edge to Chief Samaire as he commanded his warriors. Most would have felt lucky to be kin to such a strong wolf. Roisin didn't feel lucky. He treated her with the disdain reserved for someone that wasn't even worth a whisker of his time. It made her question her worth as his daughter. Would he rather she hadn't returned at all? Maybe the idea of a stolen daughter was better than the reality of the woman that had returned. A-Athair- the words died in her throat when he passed her without a word or even an affectionate touch.

His coldness was cutting and his rejection a bitter sting like salt in a raw wound. Athair! Wait! she called out louder, heart racing with trepidation. Tha mi duilich, she apologised, phrasing her words awkwardly. She knew that she wasn't the daughter that he wanted. Fae knows she was trying to be someone he could be proud of. Her gaelic was getting better, but she only knew so many phrases. A pitiful amount for a grown highlander woman. Her siblings were speaking fluently and she was struggling to keep up.

Athair: Father
Tha mi duilich: I am sorry

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Even the scent of his daughter was wrong. He remembered her from when she was small and newly whelped; she had smelled like the earth and the sky. She'd smelled like him -- like home. Those memories, fleeting and piercing, touched him only at night. Not during his waking hours, when he had complete control of his mind and his body.

Luthais heard Roisin's words, but they glanced off of him like the blow of a dull blade. She stumbled, started again, working her way into a cry: "Athair! Wait!" Now, he paused, but it was only because her voice was so loud that others would hear. The common-tongued word was like a brand on his skin. He turned towards her, to find her trying again: "Tha mi duilich." His eyes narrowed on her face. The sparring competition had paused; others were looking over. It was no secret how Luthais felt about Roisin. It was a miracle she had been welcomed back into the fold at all, and he would not have opened the gates for her had he not been forced. They'd needed numbers. She, after all, had been an unwilling participant -- at first. But now, who could know for sure? Luthais was not a betting man, but if he were, he would have bet anything that something in her had turned rotten.

His eyes glanced to their surroundings, to the suddenly awkward silence. Then, he said to Roisin, "A-staigh." He turned and stalked into his den, knowing that she would follow. The darkness did not impose upon him, but he had been told it was an imposing place. When they were fully inside, he turned to face her once more. "Tha thu toirt eas-urraim dhomh fa chomhair m'àithne le d' sheòltachd." His voice was gruff and unaffected. "Tha thu duilich?" His eyes were burning like embers in the dark. "Tha thu mar chuilean. Chan aithne dhut ar cànan, agus dhìochuimhnich thu gu soilleir ar cleachdaidhean."

This was more than he'd spoken to her in her entire time back. He did not know why he said it all now. "Ma tha thu duilich, innis dhomh carson."

"Gaelic speech"

"Speech"


@Roisin

Her father’s cold red eyes pierced through to her core, making her stomach twinge with unease. Why was she so weak? Roisin wanted to face her father as an equal, shoulder to shoulder by his side as his heir. But his eyes… They reminded her of her shame. Within his gaze she faced his judgement and found herself shrinking under the weight of it. He loathed her as much as she loved him. It felt like a constant tug of war between herself and him where he was the clear victor.

Finally he spoke, ordering her to follow him inside his den. Tail lowered, she trailed after him, unable to stop herself from hoping that he might finally forgive her. His words pummelled her in the heart like a flurry of fists and she bowed her head shamefully. Her slight grasp of their native tongue allowed her to understand that he was angry that she had interrupted him during his drills. Being referred to as a pup stung. It was clear her father didn’t respect her as an individual let alone as his daughter. ”Tha mi duilich,” (I am sorry) she apologised again, ears flattened against her skull.

Then he wanted to know why she was sorry. She paused, struggling to articulate her feelings in a language that she wasn’t fluent in. ”Airson-” (For) she began in gaelic, but the next words retreated deep into her mind as she grew more flustered, ”being like this,” she finished in the common tongue. She was sorry for many things. Sorry that she wasn’t Kiel. Sorry that she had let them ruin her and become a disgrace to the Samaire Clan.

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@Luthais

Luthais was aware that every word was a knife in Roisin's side. He was aware that his tone was harsh, that his eyes were burning, that his posture was more akin to a chief scolding a new warrior rather than a father speaking with his daughter. Some part of him knew that Nairna would be upset with him for this -- not that it had stopped him before. That distant, faraway part of his mind also could see the hurt on Roisin's face, and grimaced away from his words and actions. But this was how it had always been: his personality was two sides to the same sword, with only one offered as the cutting edge. He had grown used to hiding that duller part, because it served no purpose. They were at war now, and so if there had ever been a reason to be soft, it had long disappeared.

He did not allow himself to feel guilt over the pain in her eyes. Did she not understand the position she was in? She was laughed at by those in the Jacobian Army, the little girl who had been stolen away and now had her mind addled with Mainlander customs. She could hardly speak the native tongue, which alienated her even more from her own compatriots. None of them felt loyalty to her; none of them adopted her as their own. On the battlefield, would they lift a finger to save her, or discount her as just another Mainlander? She did not even seem to be trying to learn how to live here again. She wanted his forgiveness, but all he saw was her many mistakes. All he saw was another grave.

Not that he had been helping to garner sympathy for her amongst their ranks. Perhaps the other warriors were taking their cues from him. He treated her as "other" -- maybe they did solely for that reason. But he did not think so. He treated her as a representative of Jacob, of the movement, of their culture. He was the mirror for her to see how she reflected to others. Did she not see why? She supplicated to him. "For being like this." Half Gaelic, half common. Frustration bloomed inside him. His lip peeled away from his teeth. He wanted to throttle her.

Storms welled up inside of him, the dam threatening to break. He would not treat her like the child she was. If she wanted to live, she had to learn how. If the path was not obvious, then he would let her flounder, if only to prove his point. He did not spare a thought to think of what type of father that made him. "Na bruidhinn rium a-rithist gus an dèan thu sin ceart," he said, his voice low. And then he turned away from her and stalked out of the den.

exit

"Gaelic speech"

"Speech"


@Roisin

The Samaire Chief had always been as hard as iron. His cold blood red gaze looming over young Roisin, and she, a hopeful child seeking a shred of affection within his stern expression. Her father hated softness and it was reflected within his parenting. He raised them to be independent and to comfort themselves instead of crying for their parents. Instead of relying on Luthais it was Kiel that she turned to, her big brother had been the one to soothe her after a scary nightmare and give her the warmth that she craved from her father. Now with her father further away than ever and Kiel in the earth, Roisin felt more alone than ever before. Her mother had her younger siblings to look out for, Raith and Searla. Roisin would never forget the warmth in her father’s eyes when he looked at them.

Naively she’d hoped that now she and her were in the army together he might spare her some of the love reserved for his youngest children. Things had only become worse. Now that they were forced to interact with each other it was obvious how much she disgusted him. He was not her ally and she feared he never would be.

His harsh words were like vicious fangs hungrily tearing chunks of flesh from her heart, each bite consuming the last few rays of hope within her. The small highlander’s head dropped with the weight of her misery, biting her trembling lip as she watched him turn his back on her again.

”Athair..” (Dad…)

Fade to exit

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@Luthais